Of Love And Coffee
by MindBottled
Summary: A certain Forger plays a prank on an Architect that backfires or does it?


**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything from Inception. Those rights belong to Christopher Nolan.

**Author's Note: **I really don't know why everything I write for this pairing has to be centered around coffee, it just does. As always, enjoy! (:

**Pairing: **Ariadne/Eames

* * *

><p>Ariadne let out a sigh of relief as the heady aroma of coffee began to fill the air, before placing the final Styrofoam wall in her maze. Instead of sleeping, the majority of the past two nights she had spent creating mazes for their latest case of extraction, leaving her barely running on fumes. A sweet, caffeinated reprieve was exactly what she needed to hold together some semblance of sanity at this point.<p>

A small frown formed upon her lips when she walked over to the makeshift card/dinner table to find that Eames was hoarding the two remaining cups, Arthur already sipping on his own while he read the newspaper. Attempting to ignore the dull thud of an oncoming headache, she took a seat across from the Forger, forcing a polite smile onto her lips.

"Please pass me the coffee, Eames." she asked calmly, outstretching her arm across the table toward him.

He pushed the cup forward a few inches, the edges lightly skirting the tips of her fingers, before pulling it back.

"No."

Ariadne felt her jaw twitch, narrowing her eyes at the older man. Sometimes he could be witty and charming, an endearing rogue. Other times, such as now, he was simply an ass.

"Please pass the coffee."

Eames leaned in closer toward her, leveling his eyes with hers, before taking a sip from his own cup.

"I said _no _darling."

That was the final straw.

"Pass me the damn cup of coffee Eames!" Ariadne roared, her polite front all but forgotten.

Eames grinned devilishly at her response, pushing the coffee further away from her grasp. She was about to lunge across the table at him, tired and fed up with his little game, when a sharp voice interrupted her.

"Eames, pass Ariadne the coffee."

Ariadne stole a quick glance at Arthur, whose gaze had yet to stray from the newsprint before him, though from his tense posture she could tell his focus lied elsewhere. Namely, between her and the asinine Forger, who was currently rolling his eyes at Point Man.

"Having to get dearest Arthur to fight your battles? Tut-tut." Eames chastised, the mocking tone in his voice fully apparent, as slid the foam cup across the table to Ariadne, receiving a scowl in lieu of thanks.

Ariadne peered into the lidded cup gratefully, it's contents promising relief to her exhausted form, ignoring the chuckling Forger as she brought it to her lips. The moment the coffee touched her tongue, she became overwhelmed by it's bitter taste, spitting the liquid out almost instantly.

"What is this? Mud?"

"I thought you didn't like cream and sugar…?" Arthur pointed out, folding his paper shut with a frown.

"I said I didn't like _a lot _of cream and sugar. A little bit is nice though." Ariadne made a face at the cup, as though it were the one to blame for Arthur forgetting this detail.

Metal scratched against the concrete floors and Ariadne looked up just in time to see Arthur rising from his lawn chair with a sour look on his face, paper in tow.

"It's not like I was the one that even ordered them, I just drove." he grumbled quietly, though not quiet enough to escape the Architect's hearing.

"What?"

"I said I didn't order them, Eames did." Arthur answered matter-of-factly, before leaving the pair, preferring to locate a quiet sanctuary as opposed to surveying the spat that was bound to ensue.

As soon as she was certain Arthur was out of earshot, she turned toward Eames, who was still cackling with delight, her venomous glare rendered useless. Ariadne stood up, her chair falling to the ground with a resounding clatter in the process, and marched over to the Forger who could barely manage to stifle his laughter.

"You. Did. This. On. Purpose." She grit out, poking his chest in rhythm with the words.

"Oh come on love, how was I supposed to know the difference between a little and none at all?" The twinkle in his eyes suggested otherwise, as did his tell-tale smirk.

"Because I specifically told you I hated black coffee!"

The laughter Eames had been suppressing moment's before returned full force, only stopping once Ariadne snatched the cup of coffee out of his own hand before stalking back to her maze, ignoring his indignant spluttering.

"Wait a minute girly, that cup's mine!"

"I know it is. Five creams, three sugars right? A little rich for my taste but…" Ariadne shrugged, taking a deep swig of coffee, despite his protests.

She gagged at the taste, the coffee being much to milky for her liking, but drank it anyway if only to rile up the Forger. Ariadne glanced back at Eames, who was advancing quickly toward her, before chugging the few remaining sips, spluttering out some of the creamy liquid in her haste.

"Give it back." Eames demanded, his usual pet name forgotten and replaced with an uncharacteristically serious tone, his hand outstretched expectantly.

A sly smile spread across her features as she silently tipped the empty cup over, her mouth full with coffee. Anger flashed across Eames' face before unveiling a wicked grin, as he leaned in dangerously close to her, making Ariadne question whether or not it was such a good idea to irritate the Forger.

"Have it your way then." he murmured, crushing his lips against her own.

The shock of such an attack caused Ariadne to gasp, which Eames used to his full advantage, deepening the kiss. Coffee swirled between their mouths as he pressed her against the table, the crunching sound of Styrofoam boards filling the air, guaranteeing Ariadne another all-nighter but she found she was too concerned with what Eames was doing with his mouth to care. The more rational side of her conscious argued that she shouldn't be doing this right now, not before their latest case and certainly not with a man of Eames' reputation. Her hands, however, worked their way up to the collar of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of the fabric as she returned his movements feverishly. Somewhere in the midst of his lips moving against her own, she chose not to care about rationality, and became more concerned with what she could feel. More specifically, the feel of her too-fast pulse, how his calloused hands pressed against her cheeks felt, and the blissful, light-headed rush that seemed to drown out all previous negative feelings she had encountered during the day. Only when her lungs seemed to scream for air did she part from him, trying to gain some control over her erratic breathing as she gazed at the Forger, who was panting and made no show of hiding that fact. He wiped a dribble of coffee away with his sleeve to reveal a rather cheeky grin, the idea of wiping it away with her own lips somewhat appealing until the sound of approaching footsteps jolted her away from such thoughts. She quickly backed away from the Forger and tried her best to smooth down her blouse, just as Arthur walked into the room.

"Sorry, I forgot to grab a pen for the word cross." Arthur's vision drifted toward the unusually silent pair, shifting from Ariadne's mussed appearance toward a smirking Eames. "Am I interrupting something Ariadne?"

Ariadne flushed, wracking her brain for an excuse to explain her current predicament, but found all she could think of was the taste of a certain Forger's lips.

"We were… we were just about to head out and get some more coffee, right Eames?" she lied, her eyes silently begging him to go along with the it, which only caused his smirk to widen.

"Of course we were darling." Eames replied, his attention more on the flushed brunette than the skeptical Point Man.

Arthur quirked a brow, staring pointedly at the cup lying amongst the destroyed mazes before making a noncommittal noise. At this point, Ariadne's cheeks felt like they were on fire, silently cursing the Point Man for being so observant. She glanced back at the Forger, who seemed to take all of this in stride, looking every bit like the cat who ate the canary. He caught her gaze out of the corner of his eye and shot her a saucy wink and though she still felt self-conscious, she couldn't suppress the slight smile that was tugging onto the corners of her lips. She highly doubted Cobb, much less Arthur, could ever make Eames feel guilty for his actions. For some reason, that seemed to ease some of her own guilt. If he wasn't worried, why should she be? The tap of Arthur's wing-tip, italian leather shoes reminded her why: It was unprofessional. As if he could sense her inner-turmoil, the Forger cleared his throat, causing all eyes in the room to be cast upon him.

"Well, as much as I hate to break up this lovely tension dear Arthur, I do believe Ariadne and I have somewhere we need to be." She felt a set of knuckles brush against her own and intertwined her fingers with Eames, as he led her away from Arthur and toward the door.

The further they fled from the scrutiny of the Point Man's gaze, the more her inhibitions seemed to dissipate, leaving her with nothing but excitement. It was silly and foolish, as she was sure any semblance of a romantic relationship with Eames spelled disaster, but there was something about the way he made her feel that was thrilling to say the least and made it all seem worth the risk.

Just as they reached the doorway, Arthur's stern voice broke through the buzzing silence.

"Don't let Eames drive my Mercedes."

"I won't. We'll be back soon, okay?" She smiled reassuringly over her shoulder at Arthur, who only offered a curt nod in response.

"Farewell Arthur! Do try and have some fun while we're gone, won't you?" Eames tauntingly called out, earning a ribbing from Ariadne as they departed, both eager to get their fix of 'coffee'.

Arthur just shook his head as he sat in one of the chairs, grabbing the nearby cup of tepid black coffee. He took a sip, grimacing at the pungent taste, as he unfurled his paper. So much for that kiss being worth a shot.


End file.
